


Morning After

by strawberry_pills



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Minor Character(s), One Night Stand, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:35:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29856819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberry_pills/pseuds/strawberry_pills
Summary: One-night stands were supposed to be simple and easy. Hermione learned this wasn’t always the case, especially when dealing with the morning after.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy
Comments: 20
Kudos: 72





	Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> *sobs* I promised myself I wouldn't start another story until I'm at least halfway through A Study in Survival. This was just supposed to be a PWP one-shot so I could practice writing smut but goddammit it suddenly spun out of my control. (Now that I think about it, this could actually be a prologue to that drabble I posted in Chiaroscuro.)
> 
> Updates will be sporadic because I haven't written an outline yet and my work schedule is in shambles right now.

Hermione was on the verge of ripping the pieces of parchment in front of her to shreds when the door to her office burst open, revealing a very tanned Ginny Weasley in a slinky blue dress

“Whaddup, sweetcakes!” she hollered by the door before flopping herself on her friend’s desk.

The brunette rolled her eyes before rubbing her temples to stave off the slight ache beginning to build in her forehead. “Ginny, you’re too old to say ‘whaddup’.”

“Whatever,” Ginny waved her off and proceeded to tuck the few loose curls from her forehead. “It’s 6 pm on a Friday. Why are you still holed up in this shite hole?”

“This ‘shite hole’, as you lovingly referred to, is my office,” Hermione swatted her friend’s hand away from her face. “Since when are you back?”

“Three hours ago.”

“And why is Harry not with you?”

“I told him to bugger off for tonight,” Ginny chuckled. “I’m only here for a week before Gwendolyn ships my arse off again back to the States to start training so I want to get pissed off as much as possible.”

“And he’s fine with that?” Hermione groaned.

“I promised him I’d give him the best blowjob of his life when I get back tomorrow morning.”

There were all sorts of wrongs in that sentence but she chose to focus on the latter. “Tomorrow morning?”

“Of course, duh,” the redhead rolled her eyes as if the answer should be quite obvious to Hermione but when she only gave her friend a blank look, Ginny sighed dramatically, as if the weight of the world rested on her well-toned shoulders. “We’re doing a pub crawl, silly.”

Hermione shook her head as she slowly pushed her chair back. “No, no, no—”

Ginny raised her arms in a placating manner as if Hermione was some wild hippogriff. “Hear me out first, Herm—”

“The last time we went to a pub crawl, I woke up in a janitor’s closet in Mcdonald's!”

“But that’s the point—”

“I said no!” Hermione tossed her quill on her desk and walked over to her friend. She started dragging Ginny towards the door but the redhead was quite stronger and had managed to break free. “Ginny!”

“Look at yourself!” she stretched out her arms in Hermione’s direction. “You’re a complete mess and on the verge of a breakdown when I got here. When was the last time you let loose? I’m offering you a once-in-a-year reprieve from this miserable excuse of a routine you’ve landed yourself in, Hermione.”

“I love my job,” Hermione snapped. 

“Hermione, this job is draining the life out of you,” Ginny shot back. “You’ve been pushing papers here for almost four years and they still haven’t promoted you despite being more qualified than everyone in your department. Harry and I keep telling you that you’d make much more difference in the private sector.”

“Well, where do you want me to work, Malfoy Enterprise?” Hermione sneered.

“It’s better than sitting here doing nothing but revising documents written by oafs,” Ginny crossed her arms across her chest. “And I think the Malfoys have changed. I heard from Hannah that they’re actually hiring Muggleborns in their staff now.”

“For publicity,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “You know how keen they are on getting into the Ministry’s good graces.”

Ginny pursed her lips. “I don’t think so. I heard Daddy Malfoy resigned after his divorce and now Ferret’s running the show. No one knows what Malfoy Senior’s doing now but Harry says Draco’s not the same arsehole he used to be.”

“I’ve yet to be the judge of that,” the petite woman huffed.

“Judge all you want but right now, we’re leaving,” Ginny started tugging Hermione towards the floo outside her office. She barely managed to ward off her door before she was shoved unceremoniously into the roaring green fire.

“For Merlin’s sake, Ginny!” Hermione sputtered as she magically vanished the soot that got stuck to her robes. Ginny was doing the same behind her. “Could you do things with a little more finesse?”

“I’m a Weasley. I don’t do finesse.”

“Bill begs to differ,” Hermione retorted.

“It’s because he married Fleur and she’s French,” Ginny wagged a finger in Hermione’s direction. “If you want finesse then marry a posh French guy or someone with French in their blood. Now, up you go and change while I go get Luna and the others.”

Ginny shooed her stubborn friend away before disappearing again to Merlin knows where. Hermione stood by the end of the staircase deliberating whether to ditch her friend or do what the redhead said. Sighing, she decided to go with the latter. Ginny will only make her pay in a much more painstakingly way so Hermione might as well suck it and go with the flow.

Her room was on the third floor, right above Harry and Ginny’s. After the war, Hermione decided to move out of her parents’ home after restoring their memories and Harry insisted that she stayed with him since Grimmauld Place was a large house and Ginny was mostly away either practicing or competing for the Holyhead Harpies.

 _It’ll be nice to have some company._ That was what Harry told her. Hermione’s only condition was that she had to pay for food since Harry didn’t want her to pay him rent.

It had been five years since the war. A lot had happened since then. She and Ron broke up after two years of dating and he’s now in Romania assisting his brother Charlie with the dragons. Hermione missed his company sometimes but she and Ron weren’t really suited for each other romantically. She was surprised that Harry and Ginny agreed with her sentiment.

_“Well, you two didn’t have anything in common besides Harry here,” Ginny shrugged. “My brother’s the outgoing type, always on the move while you’re more laidback and grounded."_

_“Why didn’t you tell me anything,” Hermione huffed. “We spent two years trying to make things work when you knew all along that we’re doomed to fail.”_

_“Hey, it’s not my place.”_

_“But it’s your place to tell me which dress to wear to a party?” Hermione spoke with a light-hearted tone, but a serious demeanor had taken over. “Ron’s your brother and I’m your best friend, Gin. It would’ve saved us a lot of argument and heartache if you and Harry had just told us that.”_

She and Ron remained friends and they still saw each other on occasions in the Burrow but that was the extent of their friendship now.

Opening the door to her room, Hermione groaned when she saw a maroon dress on her bed, mostly definitely laid there by Ginny herself. And knowing her friend, Hermione was sure that piece of clothing only covered the most important bits of her skin and left little else to the imagination.

She took a quick shower before putting on the dress and applied minimal makeup. Hermione didn’t want to wake up with a caked foundation on her face the next morning when she was too sloshed to remove it before sleeping. It was inevitable. Ginny always had a knack for getting them blackout drunk during their pub crawls.

Ginny, Luna, Hannah, and Parvati were downstairs by the time Hermione got down.

“Hello, Hermione,” Luna greeted her. She was wearing a yellow sundress and beige flats and it made her look more like she was going for a stroll in the park rather than going for a night out in the city.

“Hi, Luna,” she replied before turning to the other women. “Hello, Hannah, Parvati. How’s the shop going?”

“You would know if you visited, Hermione,” Parvati replied jokingly. She was wearing a tight black dress that totally screamed ‘we’re getting turnt tonight!’ while Hannah on the other hand was wearing a plum, sleeveless dress. “You look fabulous as always.”

“Thanks,” she said sheepishly, not used to compliments. “I’ll come and visit this weekend, I promise.”

“Okay, then, ladies,” Ginny clapped her hands together mischievously. “We’re starting with Lord Nelson at Old Kent Road.”

“Shouldn’t we eat at the Leaky first?” Parvati asked.

“We can eat when we get there at Lord Nelson. And besides, Tom at the Leaky always over-charges me for food,” Ginny whined.

“Maybe because you always egg on the bar fights and he needs to cover the costs of the ensuing damages?” Hermione muttered.

“Hey, I'm only up there like twice a year. Besides I like to think I’m allowing men to let out their repressed gayness for each other in the only way society has deemed acceptable for heterosexual men to settle their issues,” Ginny shrugged with a self-satisfied air.

“I taught you so well,” Hermione beamed looking over to her friend.

“So, Lord Nelson first,” Hannah declared.

* * *

“Parvati, that doesn’t work in real life,” Hermione laughed and sipped her second Moscow Mule. The copper mug was still cold to the touch and helped ease the muggy heat from outside.

“Oh, yes it does. You just need the right attitude and the right guy.”

“This is coming from a woman who hasn’t flirted with a man since the Dark Ages. Tsk, tsk.”

“What are you two arguing about?” Ginny asked as she sat down at the raised table on the stool on Hermione’s right while Hannah sat down with Luna and gave Parvati her second margarita.

“Hermione doesn’t think guys buy drinks for girls in real life,” Parvati beat her to the point before she could even defend herself.

“Oh, Hermione, honey, where did you even get the idea?” Hannah said with a sad, but sly smile. “You really should get out more often.”

“Well it’s not like they have chivalrous intentions anyway,” she colored and took another sip to busy herself. “Besides I can buy my own drinks.”

Ginny took on a deep male voice, “Uh until your money runs out which it undoubtedly will because we are getting turnt tonight braaah!”

“And you don’t exactly have chivalrous intentions either. You just want the free drink,” Luna shrugged. Her interjections were few and far between, but she always had a level-headed response.

“Hey, it’s not like I’m trying to get in their pants though. So many people think it’s obligatory to have sex after they buy you a drink.”

“Yeah but that’s in your books and those Muggle movies. Since you think this doesn’t actually happen in real life,” Parvati smirked.

“And who knows,” Ginny shrugged. “After some conversation, you may find you want to get in their pants. Parvati does.”

“Hey now,” Hannah said with the stereotypical older sister senses kicking in. “I don’t want any more talk of anyone getting into my friend’s pants. No, you know what… I don’t want to hear any more about anyone in anybody else’s pants.”

“New game!” Ginny yelled. The bar had gotten crowded in an hour they had been there. The middle of the happy-hour rush covered any annoyance of the girl yelling. “Anytime you guys make Hannah uncomfortable, you buy a round of shots.”

Hannah grimaced, “That is an awful idea.”

“I think it's brilliant and I’m first,” Parvati pronounced, hopping off of her stool. She kissed the temple of Hannah’s hair and headed to the bar announcing, “Shots of Jameson coming right up.”

“No! Anything, but Jameson,” Hermione groaned with a flashback to their last year’s pub crawl.

“Too late,” Ginny sing-songed, knowing very well what main image was flashing through Hermione’s head. “It’s okay. I’m not going to let you get stuck in a closet again. Besides, the toilets here are very clean and Hannah can hold your hair this time.” She gave a side-long glance at Hannah who grimaced again. “Ha! Score! Fireball it is.”

She bounced off to follow Parvati.

“We can still call it a night and go home before any actual madness ensues,” Hannah murmured to Hermione with a pleading look.

The Gryffindor finished off her drink and set it down on the table, “You just don’t want a repeat of Christmas 2001 and your famous Jameson-fueled ‘Hufflepuff is the best house’ speech.”

“It was not Jameson. Remember it was Theo’s party so the Jager bombs were to blame,” Hannah said with a shudder and then her eyes widened.

“I don’t think that one counts,” Hermione laughed. “You made yourself uncomfortable. I’ll let you off because I don’t even want to add Jager into the mix tonight.”

“Thank god,” she chuckled and looked over at Ginny and Parvati laughing at the barman whose attempts to pour both shot requests at the same time had failed miserably.

“She’s much better, don’t you think?” Luna said, eyes looking at Parvati.

“Definitely, but you know how good she is at feigning that as well. She is tough though and I think she’s coping at least.”

Hannah nodded, “She and Ginny really bonded after the war.”

“They both lost a family member,” Luna murmured, a faraway look in her eyes. “But I think it’s harder for Parvati because it’s her twin.”

The three of them settled into their own thoughts about the consequences of the previous war until the two girls came back each carrying two shots in one hand.

“Ugh, I just hope I come out of this alive,” Hannah said while Ginny started handing out the Fireball and Jameson to everyone. They all clinked their glasses together, taking the first shot. “If you don’t hear from me after this, declare me deceased.”

“Bottoms up, guys,” Parvati said and all five knocked back the Jameson, much to Hermione’s reluctance.

Luna shook her head. “I haven’t gone out drinking like this in so long.”

“That’s because you were busy traveling the world looking for Nargles and whatever creature it is you’re fond of,” Ginny quipped.

“Thunderbirds and mooncalves,” Luna supplied. “Did you know that Thunderbirds can create storms as they fly?”

“No, Luna, we don’t,” Parvati said. “But that sounds so cool.”

The night followed similarly throughout the following Muggle pubs: The White Hart Brew followed Hamilton Hall, but they only stuck around for the pint as a football team was celebrating their win and took up most of the bar with their friends and family. They stopped by O'Neill's near Kings Cross Station, a dim post-hipster dive bar, and while Hannah and Luna had gotten up to grab the pints, a couple of guys had ambled over to the three girls.

“Having a girls’ night?” one of them, as tall as Ginny with his curly brown hair pulled up in a man-bun, opened with and set his drink on their table as he sidled up to Hermione. The other hung back a bit.

“Oh, no we’re just—” Hermione started but Parvati cut her off.

“Yeah, we are. You boys having a boys’ night?”

Hermione looked at her quizzically then it dawned on her. _Free drinks._

“Came to watch the game, have a couple of pints.” Man-Bun shrugged. “Would you ladies like to join us? I swear you don’t even have to act like you want to watch the game.”

His tone alluded to the idea that perhaps women weren’t interested in anything other than magazines and husbands and the stereotypes of the dark ages called the 50’s and it got her heated. _These are the first two guys that are going to stop by them in a bar?_ Parvati glanced in her direction trying to read her face, so Hermione masked her feelings. Who knew, maybe she was just reading too much into his sentence. He might have truly thought they had no interest in sports and was just trying to be polite.

“Why wouldn’t we want to watch the game?” Hermione asked. She had dated Ron for two years. Football is nothing compared to the complexities of Quidditch. “Don’t think you’re up to holding a conversation about it?”

The other guy spoke, “No, it just seems like you don’t know anything you’re talking about.”

“Oh, Merlin,” Ginny sighed. “This isn’t going to work out boys.”

“Aww, come on. We’re just joking with you,” Man-Bun replied and placed a hand on Ginny’s shoulder. Hermione’s hand immediately went to her wand holster, prepared to hex the Muggle covertly if it came to that.

Ginny jerked the hand away, but laughed, “And that’s fine, but I think my friends and I would prefer to just keep it us girls tonight and not two boys who resort to ‘You don’t know anything you’re talking about’, I hope you boys have a good night.”

Hermione and Parvati followed suit and they headed through the crowd over to Hannah and Luna. “Okay, so those guys were major tools. Man, my skeeve radar is off tonight.”

Hermione shook her head, “I’m telling you, Parvati. Guys in bars don’t just buy drinks for girls. Girls have to act some stupid way to get a free drink and even then there are a million strings attached.”

“Hermione, you know me. I’m as untrusting of guys as they come, but that’s not always the case! I swear.” Parvati looked back at the two who had commandeered their table. “Merlin’s tits! Those guys just wanted our table.”

The three of them looked at their table and its position adjacent to the telly showing the football game and burst into laughter.

“Damn it, we totally got tricked,” Ginny muttered.

Hannah heard their laughter and shifted to let them slide up between herself and Luna, “What happened? I thought you guys were getting a table?”

“We lost it.”

“Damn. We onto the next one then?”

Ginny gave the barman a pointed look, “We haven’t gotten our pints yet!”

“Oy, I’m getting them for ya. Calm yourself!” The angry voice of the over-worked barman came from their left.

“For being such a hipster bar everyone sure seems to be an arsehole here,” Parvati murmured lowly.

“Here, they’re on the house,” he said with a slam of the first two drinks before he went back to fill up the other three. “Drink up and get out.”

Parvati shrugged and took a long drink, “I mean I think this counts as a guy buying us drinks, Hermione, don’t you?”

“No, I do not!” she laughed at her friend.

“I mean it’s a free round,” Luna shrugged.

“Spoilsports,” Parvati rolled her eyes and downed the pint, wiping the excess foam with the tissue from the counter. “Let’s go finish this. We still have one last stop to our merry pub crawl.”

“There’s still one?” Hannah asked

“We’re post-four pubs and I am far too sober for this so where are we going, Parvati?” Ginny pointed her pint in her friend’s direction.

“TO ROSE & CROWN!” She yelled.

“Would you quiet down?” Hermione chuckled.

“Hermione is being a wet blanket per usual,” Ginny rolled her eyes

“Alright, alright. To Rose & Crown we go then,” Hannah huffed.

* * *

People milled around outside the entrance of Rose & Crown, but it wasn’t busy enough this late at night for their bouncer to be present. The bar was full, but a couple of tables were open so Hermione, Parvati, and Luna flopped into one while Ginny and Hannah ducked into an open space at the bar.

“I hope I don’t wake up to a head-splitting hangover tomorrow,” Hermione mused.

“Oh, we’re far past any point of returning without a hangover so we might as well make it one for the books!” Luna chirped happily.

As if on cue, Ginny and Hannah came back with a tray of tacos and shots of a mystery amber liquid.

“What is this one?” Hermione asked warily.

“Jameson, obviously.”

“We should toast to Ginny for another successful pub crawl this year!” Parvati immediately jumped up and knocked one of the drinks off. Hermione managed to avoid it spilling on her lap just in time. “Oh, crap! Sorry! Let me go get another one.”

Parvati wobbled on her feet as a wave of dizziness washed over her. Hermione realized that everyone had to be great actors or she was truly too far gone to see how not sober they were before.

“No, I’ll get it,” she pulled her friend back to her seat and stood. Parvati made a sound of protest but Hermione ignored it like the way she ignored how edges of her vision were blurring as well. She needed to tone down the cocktail mixes or she’ll end up in a closet again somewhere for sure. “You guys go take the shots. I think I’ll order another pint instead."

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Ginny pouted.

“Is that a pool table?” Hannah interrupted and the redhead's attention was immediately diverted. Hermione shot her friend a grateful look. “C’mon girls let’s play!”

“But I don’t know how to play,” Luna said.

“We’ll teach you!” Parvati took her shot and immediately dragged Luna to the empty pool table. Ginny and Hannah soon followed.

Hermione got up as well to order her pint of beer. The bar was still full but two men to her right who were sitting near the other end got up and left, leaving an open space for her to take.

“Can I have a pint, please,” she called over to the barman as she slid over the barstool. Her position was slightly obscured from the girls’ view by a large column.

“You should try their aviation cocktail,” the man beside her spoke in a low baritone. “It tastes like spring.”

Hermione looked up and came face to face with none other than Lucius Malfoy. He was twirling a glass in his hand, ice clinking as he did. She was gaping at him like a fish and Hermione had to wonder if he knew who he had just spoken to.

“Mr. Malfoy?” the sudden flinch from the man beside her told her that he had no idea. Had she and Ginny just been talking about the Malfoys hours ago?

“Miss Granger,” he blinked a few times as if he couldn’t believe she was sitting here beside him. Hermione wondered how many drinks he had imbibed before she and the girls came here. _And why was he in a Muggle pub of all places?_

“What are you doing here?” she blurted out. _So much for tact._

“Drinking, obviously,” he haughtily answered before tearing his gaze away.

“In a Muggle pub?”

“If you must know, I find the anonymity they provide to be convenient and desirable,” Malfoy answered in a huff before giving her a once over. Hermione felt the heat, that has nothing to do with the temperature inside the pub, crawl over her cheeks at his blatant gaze. “And you? What are you doing out here all alone? Looking for anonymity as well?”

Hermione tipped her drink in the direction of her friends who were doing fairly well at inebriated pool. If they were attempting to not get the balls in any of the pockets. The four of them each lined up their shots with the matching serious expressions, but their motor coordination was severely impaired after visiting four pubs and only having that one intermission for fish and chips. Whatever sobriety the group had both been exhibiting moments earlier was definitely gone now with that last shot of Jameson. Hermione glanced back at Malfoy who motioned for another drink.

“Ahh, I see,” he said after the barman had refilled his glass. “Well, I shall not keep you long. Your friends are probably waiting for you.”

She stared at him a moment, taking in the extra paleness of his complexion and the stress lines around his eyes and mouth, then turned away to take a sip of her pint and shuddered. Beer never really agreed with her no matter how often Ginny tried to make her like it. The alcohol did continue to spread warmth through her body and she knew if she stood up, another bout of dizziness was bound to kick in.

So, Hermione surprised both of them by saying, “I think I’ll stay here for the meantime if you don’t mind. I don’t know how to play pool.”

The corners of Malfoy’s lips quirked up in a small smile and Hermione found herself mimicking him. “Neither do I,” he said.

An awkward silence started and upheld until Hermione cracked her voice with a half-laughing tone that was slightly borderline derisive.

“And what is it you find so amusing?” he asked while twisting his drink around without taking his eyes off of her.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing. It’s just a joke. Something about,” she drifted off in thought for a second, distracted by his intense gaze. “A Pureblood and a Mudblood walked into a bar.”

Malfoy frowned at her. “I expected you to have more tact than that, Miss Granger.”

“What? It’s not like you didn’t think of me like that?” she said defensively.

“That might have been the case before.”

“And now?” she scoffed. Hermione knew it was the alcohol talking but she was just telling the truth. In vino veritas, as the old saying went. “You’re suddenly tolerant of my kind’s existence because your master is finally defeated?”

“I’m sitting here next to you having a civil conversation, am I not? Do you think I still thought of you like that?” he drawled, his eyes traveling lazily over the contours of her face, her body as if telling her what _exactly_ did he think of her right now, and Hermione felt something familiar pooling down her lower parts.

 _Oh, gods._ _Was she…_

“I need to use the loo,” Hermione downed her pint in one go before she hastily made her way to the short line at the bathroom.

She looked at her face in the mirror when she was done, but couldn’t stop focusing on anything besides how wide her eyes were as she tried to focus. Her dress was a bit rumpled and her hair was wilder than usual and extremely frizzy. She ran her fingers across the top, trying to tame it as best as she could but then stopped herself. Hermione didn’t need his approval before and she certainly didn’t need it now. As she exited the door she ran her fingers through her hair one time. She didn’t need his approval but she didn’t want her appearance to be used against her should he decide to.

“Hermione, you’re back!” Hannah intersected her path. “We were worried. Ginny was about to look for the guy. She said saw you by the bar talking to someone but she couldn’t see his face.”

“Oh,” Hermione decided to leave out the fact that she was talking to Lucius Malfoy and looked around for her best friend but she was nowhere in sight. In fact, everyone was gone except for Hannah. “Where is Ginny?”

“She and Luna accompanied Parvati home. I guess she was more sloshed than she let on. I decided to stay behind in case you come back.”

Hermione glanced at the clock and sighed. It was past midnight. She should be getting home as well. “Thanks for waiting, Hannah. Do you want me to accompany you home?”

“No, it’s fine. I can still apparate,” the Hufflepuff alumna replied. “How about you? Are you fine apparating?”

“I think I’ll take a cab. Grimmauld Place is only twenty minutes away,” Hermione will probably be sober by the time she got back home.

Hannah hugged her goodbye tightly before walking out of the pub. She was still walking straight so Hermione wasn’t worried that her friend might splinch herself. If only she had that high alcohol tolerance.

Looking to her right, Hermione noticed that Malfoy was still sitting at his spot nursing his umpteenth drink for the night. She internally debated if she should leave without saying goodbye or not since they weren’t even friends. Acquaintances wouldn’t even cover it but Hermione’s manners won out so she walked over and slid again beside him. She just had to make it quick.

“Hi,” Malfoy perked up at the sound of her voice and Hermione hated the way his blue eyes seemed to affect her so much. 

“I thought you passed out inside the women’s room,” he smirked at her. “I was about to summon the Aurors to rescue you.”

“Oh, wow. Humor,” she said sarcastically. “Why am I so surprised?”

Malfoy noticed that she wasn’t holding any drink so he signaled the barman to give her another pint but Hermione shook her head. “No, please don’t. I’ll probably never recover from the hangover tomorrow if you do.”

“That’s what hangover potions are for, my dear.” Hermione’s stomach did a flip at the endearment. “It’s the least I can do for the pleasant conversation you’ve supplied tonight.”

“I hardly call it pleasant.”

“It’s better than drinking alone,” the way he said it tugged at her heart a little and Hermione found herself conceding. _Such a bleeding heart, ugh._

“Fine, but you have to buy one for yourself.”

“I’m not a fan of beer.”

“What’s your liver killer then?”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her. “That’s quite a personal question.”

“You’re about to get some whipped cream vodka with that attitude,” she huffed.

“Whipped cream vodka? A place like this wouldn’t have anything like that.”

Hermione turned to the barman they had been ignoring since Malfoy had called him for another pint, “Well?”

“We have Cake UV,” he shrugged.

“Done. Two shots of that please.”

“Miss Granger, I think you will be the early death of me.”

A wide smile took over her face. “Mr. Malfoy,” she watched the barman place the two clear shots between them and took one to hold up. “Bottoms up.”

Before he could even lift his to clink with hers she tossed her own back and shuddered. He smirked and then tossed his back before violently coughing. “Merlin, what is that shite?”

Hermione laughed again, “That is 21st birthday alcohol.”

“The things you young ones do to your bodies.”

“Get out of here with that. You’re hardly old!”

Silence took over for a moment while he tried to process what she said and then he laughed. His eyes lit up and his head tilted back and he laughed a true and hearty laugh and she joined him as well. His true laughter was nothing like the cold chuckles she’s used to and her body shook as she leaned forward to balance herself with a hand on his knee.

“Oh, Miss Granger, you continue to surprise me,” he replied when he could finally check his emotions.

With her hand on his knee, she looked up at him, hair in complete disarray, one strap of her dress in the process of slipping down to her arm. Hermione felt her heart beat faster than it ever did in her entire life. Malfoy’s face was only inches away and he smelled so unbelievably good like you can smell the next fifty years of your life with him.

Her mouth parted a little and Malfoy took it as an invitation. His head dipped down, closing the distance between them in an instant. She felt both his hands on her face as he tilted her head. And then his mouth crushed hers, swallowing her surprise.

She felt her legs turn to jelly.

Her hands gripped his face, instinctively holding him to her. She could not get enough, the way he plundered her. Their tongues mingled and she tasted firewhiskey and mint. That tongue, that tongue, that wicked tongue. Oh, but she could not get enough.

He pulled back without warning, his eyes now dark, his hair tousled from her efforts.

“Your place or mine?”

“Yours,” she breathed. Her place was definitely out of the question.

She watched as Malfoy pulled out his wallet and placed a stack of Muggle bills on the counter. He got up and held his hand out to her and Hermione stared at it for a split second before slipping her smaller ones against his.

Her mind was a jumbled mess of things and she shouldn’t be doing this with Lucius Malfoy of all people but right now, her drunk-addled brain couldn’t care. _Consequences be damned! That man can kiss!_

He led her outside and to the back alley. Hermione wondered if he was going to take her then and there and she found the thought of them doing it in public turned her on more. But Malfoy simply pushed her against the wall and took her mouth again with his lips. His hands fell from her face, skimming her back, her sides before gripping her waist and pulling her suddenly to him so she could feel the unmistakable length of him, discernible even under the layers of clothing. Malfoy grounded his hips deliciously into her ache, their mouths still joined in a dance before the pull of disapparition took them away.

* * *

They landed inside a bedroom on top of a bed, lips still locked and she could tell that the sheets were expensive, could feel the bazillion thread count on it. She tugged impatiently at his shirt until he sat up and vanished it and her dress with a wave of his hand. Hermione nearly came there and then at the effortless display of wandless and nonverbal magic. She reached out to touch him and smiled when he sucked in his breath as her hand grazed his nipples.

“You’ve got a nice body,” she admitted grudgingly. His ego needed no encouragement, but she took in the strong, toned arms, the flat stomach, the V of his frame. “Not bad at all,” she conceded, “for an old man.”

“Old man?” he laughed, and then his eyes glinted. “You’ve really asked for it now, Miss Granger.” He chuckled again, and it sounded like velvet and the promise of sin. She shivered involuntarily, expectantly.

Slowly, he turned her around, facing the bed.

The tension around them was thick. Great syrupy gulps of air filled her lungs with each slowly drawn breath as Malfoy’s hands continued their ascent, his fingers massaging the backs of her thighs until he reached the ivory lace that hid untold treasures beneath. Hermione made a mental note to thank Ginny for picking out her clothes tonight. He mouthed one of the tiny dimples that decorated her lower back, making her quiver wantonly, making his grin devilish. “You like this—my attention—don’t you?”

A mewling yes was uttered into the pillows as she arched into nothing. Hermione had never been this responsive in bed, never _this_ wanton. She was probably drunker than she realized.

“Good,” he murmured, “because I enjoy it, too. Hearing all those little noises you make at the merest touch. You make such lovely sounds.” A light peck graced her shoulder. “Now tell me, Miss Granger, have you ever been properly fucked?”

Her head lifted, thinking she misheard him. “What?”

“Fucked, my dear. I just want to ascertain your experience,” he casually explained as he trailed a finger along the lines of her shoulder.

“I-” She swallowed, suddenly nervous. “I guess.” God, what sort of kinky fuckery was he into that he wanted to know about her _experience_?

He chuckled to himself. “I’ll take that as a no. There’s no guessing. You either have or you haven’t.” He tucked her hair to the side, exposing her ear, his breath tickling as he asked, “Have you ever made love? Had someone worshiped you? Had them take their time to draw out every little whimper and moan until you thought you’d die if they stopped?” His tongue flicked over the lobe of her ear, his lips surrounding the tiny pearl she wore, sucking lightly until her ass pushed back into his hips and he released her with a gasp. The day’s stubble on his cheeks was rough where he buried his head into her neck, where he rubbed against her as his hips rolled.

“I-” Oh god. He was all around her. She couldn’t think straight.

His hand found her breast, pinched her peaked nipple as he prompted, “Yes or no?”

She writhed. “No.” _Never. It’s never felt like this._ She remembered the clumsy fumblings with Ron during the early months of their relationship that turned into vanilla sex eventually. A few sexual encounters with strangers after their split, some more tawdry than others, and none of them ever ignited her blood the way Malfoy did.

“What a shame,” he tweaked the little pink bud in his fingers, swirled it with his thumb. “Well, what say we change that tonight, hmm?” The heat from his body disappeared, and a shock of cold air spiked the shivers in her as her bra was unclasped.

Slowly his hand skimmed her side. She waited as his fingers skimmed the inside of her thigh before hooking underneath the thin strap of her sopping knickers.

She held her breath as Malfoy turned her around, and his eyes locked into hers then. He watched her, even as his fingers pulled the flimsy material down and tossed it behind him carelessly. Watched even as his thumb slowly brushed up the length of her ridiculously wet slit before stopping just short of her nub. She wanted to cry out from sheer frustration then, but that would only please him all the more, the bastard.

He watched her breathe shallowly, took in the rise and fall of her chest. He made sure he had her fullest attention, the bastard. And then his finger entered her, and she let out a sigh.

“Lucius.” It was the first time she had said his first name and the accompanying growl that came from his lips fueled her lust more.

He inserted another one without warning then, and she arched her back, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. They plunged inside of her, slowly at first, and then quickening to a relentless pace. Each blunt jab at that magical spot a promise, a promise, a promise of how much sweeter the real deal could be. Her face was flushed and she felt herself cresting like never before. Like never before.

“Tell me what you want,” he panted hotly against her ear.

“You,” she said breathlessly, eyes hooded as she leaned into him.

As he worked to bring her satisfaction, Lucius mindlessly rutted against her hip, the sensation of his cock muted beneath the silk-wool blend of his trousers. Hermione wanted that barrier gone, her hands slid over his chest to divest him, buckle clanking as anxious fingers pried it open. She squeaked as his fingers that had been playing her like an instrument stopped her own, the wetness coating them quickly cooling over her skin.

His lips captured her own, swallowing her whines, as his hands smoothed over her hip to cradle the firm curve of her ass. He gave it a salacious squeeze, his pants hastily kicked off and flung to the nearest corner before pulling her atop him. She released a contented sigh when she finally felt the full, unencumbered press of his body against her.

“You took horse riding lessons, yes?” Oh, what a wicked thing to say, but his naughty words drenched Hermione’s cunt.

She played along. “I did.” Whispering seductively against his lips, “Are you in need of instruction, _Mr. Malfoy_?” She wielded his name like a weapon, a taunt, and Lucius shuddered beneath her.

“Show me.”

A chaste kiss to his lips and Hermione rose above him. She immediately felt the chill in the air, missed the rough scratch of his chest against her nipples. Lucius was heavy and hard beneath her, but he was in no hurry, content to let her dictate their pace.

“The most important thing about riding,” she declared softly, rocking against his hardened length, “is to listen to the beast’s needs. Go too hard,” she bore down on him, eliciting a curse, “and he’ll shy away. Too soft,” she lifted free, and Lucius’ hips bucked, “and he’ll try to take control. The trick,” she murmured, letting her hands roam his chest, “is to find a rhythm. A tempo that you both can abide.” And she sank down onto him with those final spoken words, her breath knocked from her lungs on a moan as her body accommodated him.

“Fuck,” he breathed, barely audible above the thrum of her heart.

Hermione hadn’t gotten a good impression of his size in the darkness, but he was much thicker, deeper than she thought he would be. The fullness stretched her to the edge of pain; pain that quickly abated when they began to move; slow, shallow rolls that gradually picked up speed until their bodies were slamming together. Lucius’ nails dug harder into her flank with each thrust she met.

He cursed under his breath. “You feel incredible. So hot and slick and goddamn you’re so tight.” He winced with his next thrust, looking almost in pain. “Fuck, I want to come.”

His declaration left Hermione oddly flattered, but every smooth rake of his cock brought that sweet abyss ever closer. “Not yet,” she pleaded. “Just a little longer. You feel so fucking good, Lucius. Please don’t stop.”

Flipping them over, Lucius ravaged her mouth, hooking her legs in the crook of his elbow so his hips were pistoned deeper. He was driving her mad. “You like this? My cock deep inside you.”

“Yes,” she moaned. He snapped his hips a little harder, and she cried out. “Again.” And he complied with enthusiasm, his thumb finding its way between her legs, as his teeth bit into the sensitive bud of her nipple.

“Come for me, Hermione.”

It was that touch of pain and her name spilling from his lips that finally broke her. Like a tidal wave meeting the shore, Hermione’s orgasm crashed over her. Waves and waves cresting and receding as she pulsed around Lucius, sucking him deeper and harder. He spilled into her, groaning into her shoulders before collapsing beside her.

Once their breaths had been caught again, Lucius peppered soft kisses along her jaw, before pulling her to lay entwined with him. Deep satisfaction spread inside her like hot chocolate in a lava cake. Hermione closed her eyes, the exhaustion of an excellent shag coupled with the numerous cocktail drinks and pints she imbibed tonight pulled her immediately to sleep, too tired to realize they forgot to use protection.


End file.
